From Tumbles to Treats
by Bellarsam Chrisjulittle
Summary: A fluffy family one-shot, featuring Alethea Holmes, Hamish Watson, their parents and loved ones. Inspired by a kid's show episode I watched a long time ago while babysitting. In the same universe as "Below the Belt," "Freak," "Don't Talk Out Loud," and "Bride of the Dragon."


The sound of children's laughter filled the warm air one sunny London afternoon in June. Two children, each about five years old, were playing in the backyard of a charming little house just outside of the city. One was a boy with fair, cropped hair that was usually neatly combed; and the other was a girl with dark, curly hair that fell just past her shoulders. Both were running around the yard with their arms extended out, radiant smiles on their faces.

"This way, Wendy!" cried the boy, who ran ahead of the girl. "Second star to the right and straight on till morning!"

"This is amazing, Peter Pan!" cried the girl, giggling.

Suddenly, the girl's foot caught on a rock that had been hidden in the grass. With a cry, the little girl fell to the ground and landed awkwardly on her left arm. The sound of her body falling and a distressed cry covering a muffled crack brought the boy's gliding to a halt. Turning, he saw his friend on the ground.

He gasped and called, "Alethea!" before running to her.

With a heartbreaking moan of "owww…" Alethea curled up into a fetal position on the grass, holding her left arm to her chest. Kneeling down beside her, the boy saw that Alethea was scrunching up her face hard, like she was trying not to cry, but her brown eyes were already full of tears.

"Thea, are you ok?" asked the boy, his green eyes wide with fear.

"My arm…" whimpered Alethea, still trying very hard to hold in her sobs even as the first tears fell from her eyes. "It hurts, Hamish…"

The two of them had been best friends all their lives, and Hamish knew that Alethea was not a child to complain if she could help it. Something was obviously very wrong. Quite scared now, Hamish looked up and called to the house, "Mummy, come quick! Hurry, Mummy!"

Three seconds later, the back door opened and his mother came out. One look at the two children and she was hurrying to them, her own green eyes filling with concern immediately. "What happened, Hamish? Alethea, what is it?"

"My arm hurts, Auntie Mary…it really hurts…" moaned Alethea, who was now shaking a bit from her effort not to break down.

As Mary gently helped her sit up, she looked at her son. Hamish could only say, "She fell down...she was right behind me and I didn't know until I heard her fall…"

Mary nodded and turned back to Alethea. "Try to take deep breaths, sweetheart. Now, tell me if this hurts, okay?" Her fingers gently touched Alethea's left forearm, but the little girl immediately recoiled with an anguished cry of "Owww!" She would have fallen backwards had Mary's arm not been around her shoulders.

Nurse that she was, Mary now knew that this was a serious situation and injury. "All right, Thea. I think we need to take you to the hospital."

Alethea looked up into her auntie's eyes. "I want my mummy…" was all she said.

Mary smiled and kissed her forehead. "We'll go to St. Bart's, where she and your Uncle John are working right now. She can meet us there, and your uncle will fix your arm right up. How does that sound?"

Her lower lip trembling, Alethea nodded. "Can Hamish come, too?"

"Please, Mummy, can I?" asked Hamish, who still looked worried and quite scared.

"Of course he can!" said Mary. "Now, come on, let's all get up and go."

* * *

Less than five minutes later, the three of them were driving to St. Bart's Hospital. As she drove, Mary made two phone calls – one to her husband and one to Alethea's mother – informing them of the situation and getting reassurance that they would be ready and waiting.

Hamish and Alethea sat in the back seat. Alethea's tears had stopped for the moment, but her face was still screwed up in great pain. She held her left arm to her chest as gently and as still as she could, but each little bump in the road was like another stab where it hurt the most. Hamish, since he could not hold her hand, had his arm wrapped around her shoulders, trying his best to help keep her still.

"I'm sorry," he finally said.

Alethea looked at him in surprise. "Why?"

"If we hadn't been playing my favorite game, this wouldn't have happened."

Distracted from her pain in favor of wanting to make her best friend feel better, Alethea said, "You didn't make me fall, Hamish. It was an accident, so it was nobody's fault."

Hamish looked less guilty, but he still looked worried for his best friend. "Are we almost there, Mummy?" he asked his mother.

"Yes, Hamish, I'm just pulling into the parking lot. I'd drop you off right at the doors if I could, but I don't know if Auntie Molly's come up from the morgue yet."

Thankfully, Mary managed to get a spot close to the entrance to the emergency room. In the next minute, Mary was walking both children towards their destination, an arm around each of them. The children walked as quickly as they could, and Mary even had to make an effort to make sure they did not run ahead. They made it inside without anybody tripping, the automatic doors sliding open for them quickly.

The group hadn't been in the lobby for a few seconds when a familiar voice cried out, "Lithi!" It came from a petite woman who was now rushing towards them from a corridor entrance. She wore a white lab coat over baggy trousers and colorful jumper; her long auburn hair was swept back in a ponytail. Her face was pale, and her eyes were focused on her daughter.

Once Alethea spotted her mother, her face collapsed from the tightly held constraint it had been keeping up since falling in the Watsons' back garden. Molly knelt down in front of her little girl and caressed her face and hair as Alethea finally let herself cry her heart out. "Oh, Lithi, how are you doing?"

"Mummy, my arm hurts!" Alethea cried, her tears and sobs bursting from her freely. Her head fell onto her mother's shoulder as Molly gently embraced her, mindful of the injured limb. Mary had gone to the receptionist so her husband would know they had arrived, and Hamish stood by Alethea's side compassionately.

"I know, my little love," Molly murmured, stroking her daughter's unique hair with expertise; Alethea had inherited her rich, luxuriant, and dark curls from her father. "I know how much it hurts, you just cry all you want and don't worry anymore. Uncle John is going to fix it right up."

Alethea hiccupped as her sobs ceased. "H-he w-w-will?"

"Of course he will!" said Molly, wiping Alethea's red cheeks. "Hamish, remind your best friend just what your father does for a living."

"He's a doctor!" said Hamish enthusiastically. "He was in the army and he treated soldiers for all sorts of things!" The amount of pride that Hamish held for his father had no limits.

"Not to mention that he has fixed your father up many times when they're having their adventures," said Molly. "It's thanks to him that your Daddy always comes home to us."

Alethea breathed a shaky sigh of relief, and even managed a little smile. Hamish, smiling at the praise his Auntie Molly had given his father, looked from the two of them to his mother, who had joined them again. They exchanged a smile, and Mary ruffled his hair.

"Alethea Hooper?" a voice called out from the other side of the lobby. The party of four all looked towards the source, seeing a middle-aged black woman in nurse's scrubs holding a clipboard. Her kind voice lilted in the style of someone from the

Alethea sniffed and raised her good hand timidly. Hamish, however, smiled and waved cheerfully. "Hi, Rhonda!" He knew the nurse who worked beside his father well; she always had a treat for him whenever he visited his father at work.

The nurse gave him a smile before turning her eyes to Alethea. "The doctor will see you now."

"Uncle John?" asked Alethea, as if she wouldn't take any other answer. Molly couldn't help but smile at that. _She looks just like her father when she does that._

The nurse nodded reassuringly. "Of course. Come on, now."

The little girl looked up at her mother. "You're coming with me, right?"

"Of course I am," said Molly, her arm wrapping around Alethea's shoulders firmly.

Alethea looked towards Hamish and Aunt Mary. "We'll be right here waiting for you," said her aunt.

"We're not going anywhere, Thea," said Hamish firmly. Mary couldn't help but smile at that. _He looks just like his father when he does that._

Alethea smiled at both of them gratefully. "Thank you."

With that, Molly and Alethea followed Rhonda the nurse out of the lobby.

* * *

"He'll be right in, ladies, he's just finishing up with another patient," said Rhonda. "You need anything, press the call button."

"Thank you, Rhonda," said Molly as the nurse left the small exam room she had put them in. Alethea sat on the exam table, still cradling her injured arm to her chest. It still hurt a lot, but knowing that her Uncle John would soon fix it, that her aunt and best friend were waiting in the lobby, and that her mother was by her side comforted her. The only thing that would make it even better was…

"Mummy, is Daddy still coming home tonight?"

"Yes, Lithi," replied Molly, who was rubbing her back. "I called him right after your aunt called me and I told him what happened. He and Uncle Mycroft are getting home as fast as they can."

Alethea's father and uncle had been away for three days now, on the continent working a confidential case for the government.

The little girl smiled. "Good."

At that moment, there was a knock on the exam room door, and Molly called, "Come in!"

In came Dr. John Watson, wearing a white lab coat and a gentle smile. "Good afternoon, ladies," he said. "And how are we doing today?"

"Hello, John," said Molly, still rubbing Molly's back. "Well, we've had a bit of an accident."

"Yes, I see that," he said, setting the clipboard he had been carrying on the exam table beside Alethea before turning to her. "Hello, Thea. Can you tell me what happened."

"Hi, Uncle John," said Alethea softly. Just like that, seeing her kind and strong uncle, who – according to her father and best friend – was the best doctor in the world for those still living (her mother was the best with those who had passed away), she knew that everything was going to be okay.

She continued. "Well, Hamish and I were playing in your backyard. We were playing Peter Pan, the part when they flew to Neverland, I was Wendy and he was Peter. I tripped over a rock hidden in the grass, and I landed on my arm; I heard a crack." Fear filled her eyes for a moment, and she spoke more urgently. "It wasn't Hamish's fault! He was ahead of me and didn't trip me or anything!"

"Oh, Thea, I know that," said John, giving her forehead a soothing peck. "I know my son, and how much he loves you; never for one moment since I heard what happened have I thought it was his fault."

Alethea sighed in relief, and Molly and John exchanged a smile before he turned his attention back to his patient.

"All right, Thea, I'd like to give your arm a brief little examination to see where the problem is…" Very gently, John pulled back Alethea's left sleeve and held the injured limb in his hands. "Now, I'm going to move my fingers along your arm, and you tell me where it hurts, okay?"

Alethea nodded. John methodically applied a bit of pressure on each area of her forearm. When he did this on the area close to her wrist, Alethea gave a cry of "Ouch!"

"Ah, there we are, then," said John as Molly placated her daughter with a kiss to her temple. He gave Alethea another smile. "You're being very brave, Thea. Between you and me, you're a much better patient than your father. Wouldn't you agree, Molly?"

Molly gave a wry laugh. "Oh, yes. Your Daddy, Lithi, _hates_ being a patient. He is not afraid of expressing how much he hates it to anybody who is there to listen."

Alethea giggled, knowing perfectly well how silly her father could be. "Like when he accidently stubbed his toe on my bedroom door?"

John laughed and Molly groaned in remembrance of _that_ colorful memory. "Oh, yes, Lithi, and Uncle John has seen much worse displays."

"That I have," said John, as he gently applied an ice pack to Alethea's arm. "Okay, Thea, that should help with the pain. Now, we're going to get an x-ray so we can see exactly what's wrong –"

"– so we'll know how to fix it?"

Grinning, John touched her nose the way only a favorite uncle can. "Exactly."

* * *

Just an hour later, the party of three were walking back to the emergency room lobby. Alethea's left arm was now set in a cast, resting in a comfortable sling that didn't strain her shoulder or neck. They expected to find just Mary and Hamish waiting for them, but their company had doubled.

"Alethea!"

That very familiar and beloved voice made Alethea's face light right up. "Daddy!"

Sherlock Holmes hurried towards her, stooped down, and gently picked her up as if she were a baby. Alethea wrapped her good arm around his neck and contentedly rested her curly head on his shoulder.

"Hello, my dear," said another familiar voice. Alethea turned her head and saw that it was her father's big brother.

"Hi, Uncle My!" she said as he kissed her cheek. "Is the case solved?"

"Yes, it's all taken care of," he said. "We had just boarded the plane when your mother called us."

"You're all right now?" asked Sherlock, eyeing his daughter's slung and casted arm.

"Oh, yes," said Alethea happily. "Uncle John fixed it right up."

"Well, I would expect nothing less from the best," said Sherlock a bit gruffly. But when he looked at his best friend over his daughter's head, his unique eyes were full of endless gratitude. John, who had his arm around his own child, merely nodded in understanding response.

Molly, who was standing close to the two people she loved most in the world, said, "Well, since we're all together and John's shift is over, why don't we all get some dinner?"

"Oh, yes, I'm starving!" said Hamish. John cleared his throat and gave his son a look. "I mean hungry," corrected Hamish hastily.

Smiling, Mary said, "Yes, and I think that Thea should be the one to choose, since she's the one who took an unfortunate tumble today."

"Hmm…" Alethea thought for a moment, wanting to pick something that everyone would be happy about. When she had decided, she said decisively: "Angelo's for dinner, and then Nina's Bakery for dessert!"

"Excellent!" said Mycroft, pinching her rosy cheek affectionately. She and her Uncle Myc exchanged grins; she had inherited her sweet tooth from him.

"I agree!" said John.

"Can Mrs. Hudson and Uncle Greg come, too?" asked Alethea, who wanted everybody she loved with her now that the pain and scares of the day were over.

"I'll call them right now," said Mary, pulling out her phone.

As the small party walked out of the hospital, Alethea again rested her curly head on her father's shoulder and softly said, "I'm glad you're home, Daddy."

"Me too, my little bee," he murmured back, kissing the crown of her head.

"I concur with that," said her mother, smiling in pure love at her family as she looped her arm around Sherlock's.

Her arm may now be in a cast, and she may not be allowed to play quite as energetically as she would like for the next few weeks, but as Alethea left St. Bart's Hospital surrounded by those she loved most and those who loved her the most, she knew that she was a very lucky girl indeed.


End file.
